


the world isn't the same these days.

by Mirimage



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, HopePunk, Music, Post-Apocalypse, i didn't write them romantically but if that's hoe you wanna see them then whatevr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:01:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26984065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirimage/pseuds/Mirimage
Summary: So this is probably gonna get like no views since it's original but I'm p proud of it so figured I may as well post it. If you read this, hope you enjoy it.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	the world isn't the same these days.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is probably gonna get like no views since it's original but I'm p proud of it so figured I may as well post it. If you read this, hope you enjoy it.

The world wasn’t the same those days.

Cities stood empty. Shattered glass littered the streets, shards of lives once lived in the shadow of concrete towers. In some places smoke still rose, the only movement in still skyscraper graveyards. 

People were nervous. Suspicious. Trust was hard to come by after all, as was safety. We couldn’t afford to be kind anymore. 

Kay and I had been traveling for what felt like decades. We were searching for something, though I wasn’t quite sure what anymore. But we’d found a purpose in this new world. That’s more than some people could say.

The world wasn’t the same those days.

* * *

I could sense Kay beside me, their gaze hotter than the fire that warmed our hands. They were tired. I was tired. Past the fire, shadows flitted back and forth, the forms of the strangers we sheltered with barely visible. I knew I should be watching them with wary eyes, but I was tired. Tired of searching for something I couldn’t see, tired of constant apprehension. Tired of this new world. I sighed. After a moment, Kay spoke. Their voice hung soft in the night air. 

“You should sleep.” I nodded without turning to look at them. “I’ll keep watch tonight.” I felt their hand on my shoulder. My eyes burned. I let them push me down until I was lying, head resting against their thigh. I fell asleep to the gentle humming of a song I didn’t recognise. 

I awoke in the early morning, and we thanked the people who had allowed us to stay the night (as well as handed over the batteries we had promised in exchange.) We departed quickly, unwilling to risk eyes hovering on our other supplies. Broken tarmac crunched beneath my feet as we skirted the edge of the road. Usually we avoided larger paths in fear of raiders and others who would shoot first and talk later, but Kay said it was the quickest way to the next camp. I got the feeling that they had been there before. There was a kind of edge to them; visible in their stride, and the brightness in their eyes, and the excited fluttering of their hands. 

“Nearly there.” They said, darting back to my side. I almost asked about their anticipation, but I withheld. Kay was… private. But I knew they’d share eventually, so I was content to keep quiet for now. 

I raised an eyebrow at the clearly long term camp; not many people stayed in one place for long anymore. Kay approached the gateway, near vibrating with suppressed energy. 

“I’m Kay?” They said, voice ticking upwards. “This is Mara, we’re expected.” The guard stepped aside with a grunt, and I followed Kay into the camp with hesitant steps. 

Kay’s tone as they introduced themself tugged at my curiosity, as much as it was old news by now. Sometimes, their voice caught when they said their name, a hesitation before they replied. I wondered if they had a different name, before. I’d never asked. No better time to reinvent yourself than when everyone you knew was dead.

There was apprehension in my movements as we picked our way through the camp. Something about the inhabitants was… unsettling. It took me a while to catch on, but as Kay’s pace sped up I finally realised what it was. 

These people seemed content.

There was no fear, none of the distrust in eyes and postures that was usual in survivors. Something was different about this group, and it set my weary nerves on edge. No one was content in this world. Not anymore.

“Kay!” A booming voice drew my attention to the clearing in front of us as a man strode into the open, arms outstretched. My hand hovered by my side ( _by my knife,_ ) but Kay pranced forwards. 

The hug they were caught in looked bone crushing. Something flickered in the corner of my vision, and I turned to see a figure twitch in an aborted half-lunge forwards. I recognised it; it was the same motion I had been repressing ever since we stepped into this camp. At least someone was acting normally. The man’s friend folded themself back into the shadows, a pair of watchful eyes in the dark. Normal. 

Not whatever this was.

“Did you find one?” Kay asked, thrumming with excitement. 

“Wouldn’t have called you if I hadn’t,” he said, hands resting on their shoulders. He led them into the biggest tent, and I helplessly trailed behind.

“Here.”

It was a guitar.

Kay’s hands were reverent as they hovered over the polished wood, alight with a kind of emotion I’d never seen from them before. 

The man winked. ”You’re welcome to stay the night. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Despite their clear longing, Kay didn’t actually touch the guitar until far later in the evening. We were sitting at the far edge of the camp, night long since fallen, when they finally settled the instrument on their lap and feathered their fingers over the strings. They plucked out a couple of tentative notes, confidence growing as they fell into a clearly practiced pattern. Slowly, quietly, the song shaped itself into something I recognised.

“Did you ever hear this song? Before?” They asked, voice softer than the guitar, foot tapping a steady beat. I didn’t reply, entranced with the distantly familiar sounds. My eyes had fallen closed. It took me a long moment to realise I had begun to sing. 

We played through the whole song, caught in our own bubble of nostalgia and fragile peace. It was only when the last notes faded from the air that we realised we had drawn an audience. The applause wasn’t loud, but still enough to shock me out of the music induced haze. As quietly as they had arrived, the onlookers dispersed back into the maze of tents until it was just Kay and I. We sat in silence for a moment.

“I didn’t know you could sing.” 

I exhaled shortly. “I didn’t know you could play.”

They hummed, a low smooth sound that brought my eyes back up to them. They looked nervous, fingers pattering a rhythm against the wood. 

“I want to play for people,” they said. “No one plays music anymore.” 

They met my gaze with a soft, hopeful sort of look.

“It would be nice if I had someone to sing with me.”

I answered before I had even realised what they asked.

Their face split into a breathless grin, and it took so little effort to return it. In that moment, I promised myself that I would sing for them until my mouth was dry and my throat ached and my voice faded into whispers. For as long as they wanted. 

Kay approached the camp with the kind of confidence I’d never had. 

“I’m Kay, and this is Mara!” Their voice was steady as they introduced themself. I never mentioned it, of course, but I thought privately that the months of introductions and recognition had given them a kind of conviction in their name. I was glad. They deserved that certainty, that sense of identity. 

We sat next to the fire, watching as people slowly emerged to mill about nearby. Kay started the song without warning, as usual, and I smiled at their choice. My voice soared as I twirled to my feet and offered my hand with a swift movement. The person who took my hand was hesitant, but as I pulled them into a dance they slowly started to laugh. I spun them out as they grabbed another person, and our dance continued.

Across the clearing, I caught a glance of Kay. Their eyes were bright with laughter, and their voice was clear as it joined mine. 

The fire had long since burned low when I found myself sitting at Kay’s side again. They watched the dying embers, gently strumming a new song. I found myself singing along, smiling as they echoed the chorus back to me. Since Kay had laid their hands on the guitar, there was barely a minute that went by without a song tripping from their fingers. 

As much as I loved performing, there was something different when it was just Kay and I, when the song was ours and ours alone. 

Eventually, the song tapered off into comfortable silence, Kay’s fingers still resting against the strings.

“This is what we’re supposed to do.” 

Their voice was sudden, and I tilted my head with a wordless question.

“ _Look_ at them, Mara,” Kay said. They turned to me with tears in their eyes and a wide smile on their face. “We did this.”

I was quiet for a long moment, watching the people dance and laugh and sing. They were happy. 

_We did that._

“You know, I’m really glad I met you.”

* * *

The world isn’t the same these days.

Cities stand empty. But if you look, you’ll find life. Plants push their way through cracks in the pavement. Dogs roam the streets, strangely well fed for strays. (Hands reach from shadowed alleys, sharing food and a gentle pet.)

People are nervous. Suspicious. But if you look, you’ll find kindness. The brush of a hand as supplies are doled out, the shared gaze of two weary travellers meeting on a trail. A quiet kind of companionship, fragile but universal.

Kay and I are still traveling. But we’re not searching. Not anymore. We didn’t find what we were looking for, but we found our purpose. In this new world, that’s all we can ask for.

The world isn’t the same these days. But maybe it doesn’t have to be.

**Author's Note:**

> The songs they played are 'Soldier, Poet, King' by The Oh Hellos, 'Téir Abhaile Riu' by Celtic Woman, and 'This Side of Paradise' by Coyote Theory.


End file.
